Like A Rolling Stone Poem by Isaak DeMaio

Waiting for your cup to be poured with fame,
listening for your name to change, yet it's still the same.
People'd say, 'Watch out Doll, you're ready to fall'
But you didn't listen to them.
You thought it was about the laughs,
never thought about the craft, until you asked
and then you finally lost your way.
 
It's hard to live, when no one hears you yell,
you're not doing so swell,  and have no one to tell,
about all the things you dwell,  and how you fell,
living inside your little shell, you were never doing well,
but now you want to sell?
 
You've went to school, made a few friends,
you'd depend on everything they said,
intend to extend everything you attend,
but now you break when you bend.
 
It must be really hard to feel,
when they steal everything you conceal,
you thought you were made of steel,
but really you're the rubber on a wheel.
 
Inside your head, your brain went down the drain
left in pain, you had nothing left to gain,
your life's so plain, you're so vain,
but why did you take that lane?
 
So how does it feel?
To be on your own?
With no direction home?
As a complete unknown?